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"That sounds like Mrs. Dodd," said the Archbold quietly.
"Ah, but," continued Frank, "there was another with her a beautiful young
lady; oh, so beautiful!"
"Miss Julia Dodd," said the Archbold grimly.
Alfred panted, and his eyes roved wildly in search of a way to escape and
follow her; she could not be far off.
"Anybody else, Frank?" inquired Mrs. Archbold.
"No more ladies, madam; but there was a young gentleman all in black. I
think he was a clergyman--or a butler."
"Ah, that was her husband that is to be; that was Mr. Hurd. She can go
nowhere without him, not even to see her old beau."
At these words, every one of them an adder, Alfred turned on her
furiously, and his long arm shot out of its own accord, and the fingers
opened like an eagle's claw. She saw, and understood, but never blenched.
Her vindictive eye met his dilating flashing orbs unflinchingly.
"You pass for a woman," he said, "and I am too wretched for anger." He
turned from her with a deep convulsive sob, and, almost staggering,
leaned his brow against the wall of the house.


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